Occam's Razor, 2023

Once again, I applied the idea that given competing solutions to a problem, start with the simplest. I live by that rule. It's logical, elegant, and usually a cheapass solution to expensive issues.

As I wrote here before, most problems with any machine involve fuel or fire. 

We own many used vehicles, not including tractors. I work on almost all of them. The use of Occam's Razor never failed me yet, but William of Occam never met a modern electrical system's ground fault or short circuit. For those without coursework in electrical science, I'm talking about the way any charged circuit "goes to ground," with current going to the frame of a vehicle because of a chafed or broken wire. This slowly discharges the battery. It's not dangerous (generally) in a 12-volt DC system like the Mule has; once the current of 20-40v from the engine reaches the voltage regulator, it steps down to trickle-recharge (rather than blow up) the battery. Thus arranged, a new battery can last a decade in a car; in a farm vehicle, fewer years because of all the moisture and hard use they encounter.

Still, that recharging battery is magic! That's all fine and good until one has a short from corrosion in a connector or a mouse-chewed wire somewhere, leading the battery to slowly discharge over time.

Of all our vehicles, the most thrashed, and most useful, is a Kawasaki Mule 610 we got when Nan broke her leg in 2015. It makes getting tools and supplies a snap on a large property, not to mention moving 50 lb bags of feed for chickens, bed-loads of mulch or gravel, and more. At our age, we could not get by easily without the Mule.

Until we had to do so. Something was draining the UTV's battery.

The Internet forums for these vehicles abound with complex and often contradictory advice. I've come to the conclusion they these light-duty UTVs all have a weak-spot in their electrical systems.

So I began with the cheapest, easiest fixes. After testing and ruling out expensive stuff, I replaced the $12 ignition switch (trivial), $20 voltage regulator (a bit fiddly). Still, the machine continued blowing a 30 amp fuse and the battery would not hold a charge. The battery was fairly new, so it was either 1) damaged by all the jump starts and draw-downs or 2) not the culprit.

Eventually, I came to the conclusion that a parking-brake "idiot light" had a short. I simply eliminated it from the circuit and bought a new $60 battery. Now the Mule runs like new. I then spruced it up with new tail-gate and hood-release cables, cleaned the frame and engine compartment, did an oil change, cleaned the air-filter, and repaired a tire with a slow leak. I have a few more things to do before the 500-hour service, none of them major work. 

If the fuse blows again, I'll shell out $150 for a new electronic control module, a computerized device that regulates where current goes in the Mule's innards.

I cannot say that I won't thrash the Mule again, but I plan to stick to the service intervals and check my electronics more. With 400 hours after 8 years, the Mule has been used heavily by us. We don't want to have to replace it.

So as 2023 closes shop, what else have we been thrashing, aside from our poor planet and our sense of community? What if we applied Occam's Razor to some of those problems?

Here's to hoping that 2024 is bright and full of hope.